


The Warm Embrace (Of Holding Your Hair Back in a Bathroom Stall)

by nothinginfinite



Series: wake me up beneath the sheets [2]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Bottoming from the Top, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Exhibitionism, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Piercings, RPF, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:52:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothinginfinite/pseuds/nothinginfinite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The thing is, Darren’s been watching Chris for a long time, longer than the span of whatever this thing that they have is. He’d noticed Chris the first day he’d walked on set and his eyes haven’t really left him since. He’s intriguing to watch, the way he carries himself, both as Kurt and as Chris, the way he interacts with his co-stars. Even the way he interacts with his fans and the media. He’s always gracious and poised, a genuine smile on his face, but Darren can tell that it’s not his </i>real smile<i>. It’s genuine and honest, but the smile that the fans see or the ones that plaster the magazines, those are his publicity smiles. The smile that no one sees, when the cameras are shut off, is the one that Darren sees every day on set when Chris is hanging out with the rest of the cast, relaxed and in his element in a way that he doesn’t allow himself to be in the public. Then, there is Darren’s smile, the one that Darren has only ever seen turned on him. It’s this intense combination of shy, fond and hungry in one go and it makes Darren weak in the knees every single time.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warm Embrace (Of Holding Your Hair Back in a Bathroom Stall)

**Author's Note:**

> **disclaimer:** If I was making money writing these stories, I wouldn't be in the debt that I am. This is in no way true or intended to hurt the aforementioned parties. Any similarities to actual events are purely coincidental. As always, please do not link this to anyone mentioned in this story or the people they know.

Darren is one hundred percent, completely and undoubtedly a people person. He's charming and funny and can talk anyone and everyone into one of his completely hair-brained ideas with nothing more than a wide smile and earnest eyes. Being able to read people accurately and peg them practically spot-on really shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone. It's just another part of Darren.

The thing is, Darren's been watching Chris for a long time, longer than the span of whatever this thing that they have is. He'd noticed Chris the first day he'd walked on set and his eyes haven't really left him since. He's intriguing to watch, the way he carries himself, both as Kurt and as Chris, the way he interacts with his co-stars. Even the way he interacts with his fans and the media. He's always gracious and poised, a genuine smile on his face, but Darren can tell that it's not his _real_ smile. It's genuine and honest, but the smile that the fans see or the ones that plaster the magazines, those are his publicity smiles. The smile that no one sees, when the cameras are shut off, is the one that Darren sees every day on set when Chris is hanging out with the rest of the cast, relaxed and in his element in a way that he doesn't allow himself to be in the public. Then, there is Darren's smile, the one that Darren has only ever seen turned on him. It's this intense combination of shy, fond and hungry in one go and it makes Darren weak in the knees every single time.

Yeah, Darren can read people, can read _Chris_ really well. So it's no surprise that he puts two and two together and figures out Chris' problem just a week before his birthday.

* * *

It's not noticeable, at first. Darren feels like a hypocrite, talking about how he can read people, when it took him a good thirty-six hours to notice it. The thing is, the shift is subtle, hardly a blip on the radar. Only someone who watches Chris the way that Darren does, who is so in tune to him, would notice.

The first thing that tips Darren off that something isn’t right is the way that Chris' smile immediately drops off the moment peoples' backs are turned. It's not his usual meltaway smile, the one that lingers long after the joke has been found funny. No, this is like night and day, one of those Janus masks and it makes something twist in Darren's chest.

He watches closer after that, noticing how Chris' laugh isn't quite right and how his smile doesn't reach his eyes or how his appetite seems to diminish. The thing that really clues Darren in, two weeks in to his observation, is the way Chris carries himself. He doesn't slump, never slumps, but suddenly he seems _smaller_ , curled in on himself, even when he's sitting up straight.

The epiphany knocks the breath out of Darren and he's up and across the lot towards his car before he can even think about what he's doing. He's got an idea.

* * *

Darren's sitting on their bed when Chris steps out of the bathroom, steam from the shower billowing out the door behind him. It's their last night home before tour starts and Chris is _exhausted_. Being on the Dalton set this season has spoiled him and he's forgotten how hard it is to get everything choreographed just _so_. Despite feeling looser after his shower, Chris can feel the aching twinge deep in his muscles when he moves the wrong way. Dressed in a soft, gray tee - that he completely, unashamedly stole from Darren - Chris pads over to where his boyfriend is seated, standing between Darren's legs. He brings his hand up to brush Darren's curls out of his eyes, smiling fondly down at him. Darren looks tired, ready to fall asleep sitting up, but it doesn't stop him from bringing his hands up to curl around Chris' waist, his face tilting up with a sleepy smile.

"Hi."

"Hi." Darren's voice has that rough edge to it that he gets when he's over-tired and he makes a noise in the back of his throat, tugging Chris impossibly closer. Chris stumbles, almost falls before bracing a hand on Darren's shoulder.

"Whoa, there."

"C'mere." He's insistent, tugging Chris down until he has no choice but to climb into Darren's lap, legs settling comfortably on either side of his hips. The sleepy-eyed boy beneath him makes a noise of contentment, arms sliding around Chris' waist, face nuzzling into his neck. "Hi."

Chris laughs, soft and breathy, tilting his head a little and bringing his hand back up to run through Darren's hair. "Sleepy?"

"Little." The brunette hums in approval and gives Chris another squeeze, hands sliding under his shirt to rest on his lower back, thumbs moving back and forth idly across the near-invisible scars there.

Chris tenses before he can tell himself not to and Darren's thumbs still on his back, his head lifting off of Chris' neck to looking up at him and wow, Darren can go from sleepy and adorable to awake and serious in nothing flat. Chris bites his bottom lip, not sure what to say, what there is _to_ say, but Darren beats him to it again.

"Hey, so. I bought you a birthday present."

Chris wrinkles his nose, tugging on an errant curl. "I thought we agreed no presents."

Darren rolls his eyes and huffs a little, fingers flexing on Chris' hips. "Fine. It's not a birthday present. It's a start-of-tour present."

"I don't believe you."

"Of course you don't. With good reason." Darren's lips suddenly stretch into a smirk and he raises an eyebrow. "That doesn't stop you from wanting it."

Chris groans because Darren's right, the smug bastard and even though he'd told Darren that he didn't expect him to get him anything for his birthday, he can't help but be curious as to what the other boy had picked out for him. "Fine! I want to see what you got me."

Darren laughs and tilts them a little as he reaches over to the nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out a long, flat black box, tied with a red satin bow. Handing it to Chris, who's looking at it like it's the most precious thing he's ever seen, Darren leans back a little, giving Chris some room. "Open it."

Swallowing thickly, Chris gently unties the bow, setting the box on Darren's stomach so he can fold the bow neatly and set it off to the side. Lifting the lid of the box, Chris sets it aside as well, before folding back the tissue paper. His pulse picks up a little in anticipation and he gasps when he finally uncovers what's in the box, bringing a shaky hand to his mouth, eyes suddenly glassy.

"Hey, no." Darren's pushing the box aside and sitting up hastily, pulling Chris close again, hands rubbing over his back as Chris shakes above him. They don't say anything for a few minutes, until Chris has calmed some and his breathing is back to normal. Darren pulls back far enough to look Chris in the eye, concern flooding his features. "Hey. You okay?"

"Yeah. I. Unexpected, that's all."

Darren looks guilty and ashamed and he's shaking his head, already apologizing. "Shit, Chris. I'm sorry. We can take it back and get you something you really want. I just thought that -"

"Darren." Chris is surprised when Darren immediately shuts up, jaw clicking closed with a snap. "I don't want to take it back."

"But you? I don’t understand."

Chris sighs and rests his forehead against Darren's, letting his eyes go cross-eyed for just a moment. "I wasn't expecting it, is all. Silly, since you're the one person that knows me almost better than I know myself."

Darren's thumbs are back to rubbing his lower back again, hands strong and warm against Chris' flesh and he can't help the little shiver that goes through him at that. "You just seemed to be struggling the last couple of weeks and I wanted to help. No one else might notice, but you carry yourself differently. I know these," Darren brushes his fingers over the scars again, making Chris gasp. "Aren't permanent, but I thought maybe you could have something that was. Something that's easier to hide."

Chris can't really find the words that he wants to use to say what he needs to, to make sure Darren understands how monumental this is. Instead, he presses his lips to Darren's, firm but not demanding. "Thank you."

He twists and pulls back, reaching for the box again so he can get a proper look at what Darren bought him. His hands don't shake this time around and he gets all the tissue paper out of the way, staring reverently down at the box in his lap. Inside is a beautiful tailored [boned corset](http://s306.photobucket.com/albums/nn248/randasroobear/Picspams/?action=view&current=red-boned-up-corset-bustier-g-string-lingerie-s-2xl-f0b88.jpg) in a stunning red. It’s a fairly simple design, with a small ruffle across the top and bottom seams, slight and scattered beadwork across the front. He pulls it out of the box, feeling the weight of it in his hands, fingers brushing over the silky fabric. He can imagine how it's going to feel against his skin and already, he's breathing easier.

Glancing back down at the box, Chris makes a noise of curiosity and holds up the other items, raising an eyebrow at Darren, who's suddenly looking nervous.

"I know you said that you don't want to feel like a girl, that that’s not what this is about and I agree with you." Darren sucks in a breath of air, looking up toward Chris - not _at_ him, but rather something over his left shoulder - and speaks again. "I saw them and I think they’d be really hot."

Chris' other eyebrow joins the first and Darren thinks it's amazing how he can look so incredulous while straddling Darren's lap, holding women;s lingerie in his hands. "You bought me thigh-highs and a garter-belt, Darren. Is this some kind of thing?"

"No! Yes. Maybe?" Darren flops back on the bed, almost jostling Chris right off his lap, hands coming up to scrape across his face, his cheeks almost burning his palms in his embarrassment. "I don't know, okay? Ever since you showed me your piercings, I can't get this image out of my head and I figured, hey. Why not kill two birds with one stone. You get your corset and I get to see my smoking-hot boyfriend in lingerie."

He can't help it; Chris giggles. Okay, so it _is_ kind of hot and he can see how it might be something that Darren's into. Hell, he can see how it might be something that _he's_ into. Still, it's not very often that he gets to see Darren this flustered and he kind of wants to bask in the moment a little more. "I'm sure that probably sounded sexier in your head."

Darren groans and Chris laughs again, tucking everything neatly back into the box. Out of the corner of his eye, Chris can see Darren peeking at him through his hands and he scoots off of Darren's lap to go lay the freshly re-packed box on top of his suitcase. When he returns to the bed, he crawls back on so that he's straddling Darren again, resting his weight on his arms as he leans over him.

"So is that a no?" Darren looks hopeful and Chris finds it both endearing and weirdly hot. Rolling his eyes, he leans down and captures Darren's lips in a searing kiss, licking insistently at the seam until Darren lets him in. When he pulls away, Darren's breathless and a little glassy-eyed, fingers clutching at his hips again.

"We’ll see."

* * *

Chris forgets about the box until the second night of tour, when he's digging around in his suitcase for a pair of his lucky socks. His fingers brush against the hard edge of the box and after shifting some shirts aside, it's in plain view, tied as perfectly as when he'd repackaged it.

He sucks in a sharp breath and glances around quickly, but no one is paying attention to him. He covers it back up, an idea already forming in his head.

"Chris. Stage in five."

"Coming." Grabbing a pair of socks, Chris zips up his suitcase and jogs down the corridor to the waiting area in the wings. Darren's not going to know what hit him.

* * *

Unfortunately, tour doesn’t grant them a night off for Chris’ 21st, but they still finish up in enough time to take Chris out for celebratory drinks _on_ his birthday. It kind of sucks, since they’ve got an early show tomorrow, which means an early sound check, so they can’t let loose as much as they’d like to. As Darren helps a giggly Chris up to their apartment, he’s beginning to think that’s probably a good thing.

"Come on. In you go." Darren manages to get Chris in the door - shutting it and locking it behind them - and into to the bedroom, on to the bed without killing them, but only just. Setting Chris on the bed, Darren moves to drop their keys and wallets on the desk, toeing off his shoes by his suitcase. They’ve forgone unpacking, the relief of being in their own bed so soon after the start of tour short-lived. They’ve got two shows in L.A. and then they’re off again, dancing and singing their way through town after town. He can hear Chris singing something to the ceiling behind him, a soft rustling sound as he shifts on the bed and Darren smiles to himself as he tugs off his tie, draping it over the back of the chair. He makes quick work of his slacks and his dress shirt, folding them neatly to join his tie. He’s sliding off his socks, bouncing a little as he tries to keep his balance, when the singing stops. Rolling his eyes fondly, Darren figures that Chris has finally passed out and he finishes putting stuff away.

"Darren." Chris’ voice sounds loud in the quiet room and Darren jumps a little, startled, his heart skipping a beat.

"Jesus, Chris. You scared me. I thought you were -" Darren turns towards the bed, breaking off as he takes in his boyfriend’s appearance. Chris looks disheveled, his hair wild and falling free over his face, hair product long gone. His dress shirt is wrinkled, unbuttoned at the top exposing smooth, creamy skin. He’s kicked out of his shoes and he’s leaning back across the bed, propped up on one elbow, eyes dark and wicked as they watch Darren’s every move. He crooks a finger at Darren, the corner of his mouth tilting up in the sexiest smirk Darren has ever seen in his entire life.

"Dar- _ren_. C’mere, loverboy."

It’s totally cheesy and Darren wants to snort and roll his eyes, but he can’t seem to do anything other than obey, almost tripping over his feet to get to the bed. Up close, Darren can see the pink flush high on Chris’ cheeks and Darren wonders if that’s equal parts alcohol and arousal, or if one outweighs the other.

He lets Chris hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pull him on to the bed so that he’s straddling him, his right leg pressed up against Chris’ left hip and his left nestled between Chris’ spread thighs. He can feel Chris’ erection, pressed hot and heavy against his knee and it makes his own arousal spike, breath catching. With a groan, Darren leans down and kisses Chris wet and messy, more of a slick slide of tongues and lips and teeth than a kiss with any kind of direction or skill.

Chris has his fingers buried in Darren’s curls, tugging lightly as he arches up against him, whining into his mouth. There’s sharp arousal curling in his groin and Chris wants more. Darren’s working his mouth over Chris’ neck and christ, if that doesn’t feel good. He can feel the burn of Darren’s stubble, this added spark of pain that makes it that much better and he can’t help but moan and lift his head, giving Darren more access.

Darren’s fingers tugging at his shirt brings Chris back to himself and he pulls away with a groan, rolling them so that he’s on top, Darren spread out beneath him. He straddles Darren’s hips and leans up, his ass resting right over Darren’s cock and even through layers of clothing, he can feel how hot and hard he is, just from this. The fact that he can do this to Darren, where no other guy can or has, makes his blood thrill.

Leaning down, Chris presses a gentle kiss to Darren’s lips, pulling away when the brunette tries to deepen it. "Nuh uh. I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Darren looks blissed out, his lips swollen and red, slick with their spit. Chris can’t help himself and he reaches down to press his thumb against Darren’s bottom lip, tugging it down a little. He gasps when Darren darts his tongue out to lick it, eyes heavy and hooded as he sucks the digit right into his mouth. Chris moans, the feel of Darren’s hot mouth going straight to his dick and he rocks his hips a little.

"Y-Yes. A surprise." It takes a lot of willpower to pull his thumb free of Darren’s mouth, but he does and then he’s swinging off the bed, sashaying towards the bathroom, Darren’s startled, "Hey!" following him. Before he shuts the door, Chris peeks his head out. "Be a good boy and I will make it so worth your while."

As the door shuts with a click, Darren lets his head fall back on the bed with a groan, staring up at the ceiling. Birthday boys are _brats_.

* * *

While Chris is in the bathroom, Darren slips off his boxers and pulls down the bedding, turning off all the lights except for those on either side of the bed. The minimal light helps cast a sort of ethereal glow to the room and eases Darren’s white-hot need into a simmering arousal. Laying back on the bed, propped up against the pillows, Darren lets his eyes drift shut, running his hands gently over his body. He’s not trying to end it all before it begins, but if he just lays on the bed and does nothing, he can almost guarantee that he’ll fall asleep.

Darren moans softly when the pads of his fingers brush against his nipples, the sensitive nubs already pebbled and hard due to the cool air in their room. He runs his hands down his sides, thinking about Chris above him, kissing down his torso. He groans and spreads his legs, his cock laying heavy and fevered against his stomach, the swollen head sending rivulets of precum down his side. Eyes still closed, he reaches down to roll his balls in his hand, biting his lip to suppress a loud moan when he lets a finger brush behind them and down, his nerves going haywire.

The bathroom door clicks open but Darren doesn’t open his eyes, knowing he’s on display. He can feel Chris’ heavy gaze on his skin and it sends a zing up his spine, making him moan. He drags a finger up the length of his cock but doesn’t take it in hand, moving instead up to his nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

He feels the bed dip with Chris’ weight and he can feel the warmth from Chris’ thighs when he straddles him, not touching but oh-so-close. Darren shivers and arches into the finger that runs down the middle of his chest, flicking over the head of his cock.

"Getting started without me isn’t exactly what I’d call a good boy."

Chris’ voice is soft, amused, with just an edge of something else underneath it. Darren’s blood runs even hotter, if at all possible, the authority in Chris’ voice making his cock twitch. He feels Chris grab his arms and stretch them up over his head before fanning them out like a bird, wrapping his fingers around the slats in the headboard. He flinches slightly at the unexpected wash of warm air over his face before relaxing, tilting his head up to get Chris’ lips.

"If you’re good and don’t touch until I tell you, then I won’t make you wear the handcuffs." Darren groans, his cock giving another twitch against his stomach. His eyes are still closed, though Chris hadn’t specifically said to keep them closed and he whines when he feels Chris shift above him, the warm air moving away.

"Are you going to be good, Darren?"

Darren nods, hips jerking when a warm, slick hand closes over his cock, jacking him lazily. He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. His brain short-circuits for a moment when Chris’ thumb brushing over the head of his dick, gathering up the drip of pre-cum and he moans when he hears the unmistakable sound of Chris sucking the taste of him from his finger. Darren gasps when Chris tightens his hand almost painfully around his dick, trying to get his attention.

"Darren."

"Yes. Yes, I’m going to be good."

"Excellent."

The bed is shifting again and suddenly Chris’ hand is gone, making Darren whine in protest, hips bucking at the loss. He can hear his boyfriend moving around above him but he can’t really make heads or tails of anything, flinching slightly at the brush of something smooth and silky against his thigh.

Chris wraps his hand around Darren’s cock again, but with his eyes closed, in his spread-eagled position, he can’t anticipate Chris’ next move.

"FUCK!" Darren’s hips jerk automatically and his upper body pulls against where he’s hanging on to the headboard, making his arms twist painfully as his eyes shoot open in shock. It’s a wonder that Darren doesn’t come on the spot because the sight that he’s met with is nothing short than something out of his fantasies. Scratch that. This is _better_ than his fantasies.

Nothing Darren ever dreamt up could have prepared him for the sight of his boyfriend - dressed in a scarlet corset that hugged all his curves and created new ones where they didn’t previously exist, garter belt slung low on his hips, clipped snug to the black thigh highs resting against his pale thighs - sinking down on to his cock, head thrown back in ecstasy, red flush high on his neck and chest, ending just before the start of the corset.

Darren groans and holds his breath, trying not to come _likerightnow_ , thighs twitching with the effort to keep from thrusting up into Chris’ tight heat. He watches as Chris works himself down on his cock, palms pressing down into Darren’s hips once he’s fully seated, eyes half open and glazed with arousal. His own eyes wide, Darren looks back, drinking in the image before him, licking his lips.

"Holy _shit_ , Chris," he breathes, fingers flexing against the headboard. He wants to thrust up into his Chris, wants to feel his ass flex around him as he fucks him hard. More than that, he wants to _touch_ , to slide his hands along the boning pressed against Chris’ ribs and run his fingertips beneath the edge of the garter belt, brushing over his cock before he moves to worship Chris’ legs, mouthing over the fabric of the nylons. As hot as this is, he wants to play, too.

"You like it?"

Darren’s jaw drops and he opens and closes his mouth for a minute, trying to find words. "Chris, it’s. Fuck, it’s better than everything I’d ever dreamed it to be. You look so fucking hot. Want to touch you so bad. Please, baby."

His boyfriend is an evil, evil little brat, Darren thinks, because Chris is shaking his head and clenching around Darren’s length, a smirk on his face. "Not yet."

Darren opens his mouth to protest but all that comes is a gurgle as Chris begins to move, slowly just rocking his hips back and forth instead of up and down. He can feel the muscles in Chris’ ass fluttering around his length and Darren’s pretty sure that if he let himself, he could come just like this.

Chris is making a considering sound above him and he changes tactics, slowly lifting himself off of Darren’s cock, the head just barely pressing inside of him before he sits back down, groaning at the long, thick slide of the cock inside of him. Chris quickly finds a rhythm, slow and steady, not nearly enough friction to get either of them off, but still enough to make it feel good. Darren’s knuckles are white around the slats of the headboard, his arms shaking with the effort not to just _grab_ , to be good instead of pressing finger-shaped bruises into Chris’ hips, right where there’s a tempting strip of skin just begging to be marked.

"Did you know I was wearing this at the bar?" Darren opens his eyes (no, he has no idea when he shut them) and stares at Chris above him, watching as he runs his fingers over his torso, his pale fingers splayed wide against his own ribs before letting his hand slide down to pump his own cock once, twice. Darren’s pretty sure he’s forgotten how to breathe.

"I kept waiting for you to notice. Thought for sure you would." Chris opens his eyes fully and they’re so dark that Darren can’t distinguish the pupil from the iris, making Chris’ face look paler than normal. "Thought you’d fuck me in the bathroom. Or maybe on the dance floor, tucked into some little dark corner where no one would have paid attention to us."

Darren groans again, closing his eyes but all he sees is the pictures that Chris is painting and he rolls his hips. Chris is moving faster now, but it’s still not enough and Darren’s going _crazy_.

"My favorite was where you dragged me back here and bent me over the couch and fucked me hard because you couldn’t wait any longer." Chris emphasizes his point with a twist of his hips as he sinks back down on Darren’s cock and that’s it, Darren’s done.

Letting go of the headboard, Darren surging up until he’s sitting, pulling Chris closer so he can pull his head down for a bruising kiss. The angle of his cock changes like this and they both groan as he slides deeper, the head brushing against Chris’ prostate.

"Such a fucking little tease, baby. Don’t even know what you do to me." Darren’s rocking his hips as hard and as fast as he can, but it’s difficult in this position and he whines when he’s not getting the stimulation that he needs on his cock.

Chris is shoving at his shoulders and Darren lays back willing, hands gripping Chris’ hips tightly, no doubt leaving bruises. (The thought sends a wave of heat rushing over him and Darren grips them harder, his thumbs notching into the hollow of Chris’ hipbone, pressing deep. He feels a little spark of triumph when Chris hisses above him, his ass squeezing around Darren in reflex.) Resting his hands on Darren’s chest, Chris works himself back on Darren’s cock. Darren pulls his legs up, feet flat on the bed, to get more leverage, hips working to meet Chris’ thrusts.

"So fucking beautiful, Chris."

"Shit, Darren. I’m c-close."

Darren slides his finger under the bottom of Chris’ corset, rubbing along the skin of his back, making Chris moan above him. He follows the seam around, his other fingers brushing up against the nylon-covered thigh beneath them, feeling Chris lose his rhythm. All it takes is a brush of fingertips against Chris’ neglected cock and he’s coming hard, striping Darren’s chest and part of his corset with come. Chris’ ass clamps down on Darren’s cock and he tries to fuck Chris through his orgasm, but he only gets in two, three thrusts before he’s gone, vision going white as he presses in deep, coming inside of Chris.

When he comes back to himself, Darren’s got Chris laid out on his chest, cock still nestled inside of his ass. He can feel Chris’ come cooling between them and he knows that he should get up and get them cleaned up, but he’s not sure that he can feel the lower half of his body right now. Running a hand up Chris’ back, Darren chuckles low and hoarse when Chris all but purrs.

"How are you feeling?"

"Hmmm, better. Complete."

Pressing a kiss to Chris’ forehead, Darren resumes the gentle touches up and down Chris’ spine. "So, you think that’s going to work for you, then?"

Chris pushes himself up enough that he can turn his head to rest his chin on Darren sternum, an eyebrow raised. "What? The kinky sex?"

Darren flushes and rolls his eyes, shifting beneath him. They both hiss as Darren slips out of Chris, still too sensitive. "That is not what I meant and you _know_ it."

"Yeah, I know." Chris’ smile gets broken by a yawn and then he’s snuggling closer and Darren thinks fuck the clean up. Only god himself could make him leave this bed right now. "It worked."

Something unfurls in Darren’s chest and he didn’t realize just how important this was to him, that Chris felt content and okay in his own skin, until now. Wrapping his arms around Chris, he tucks him closer, letting his eyes fall shut. "Good. The kinky sex was just a bonus."

Chris’ laugh echoes in the quiet of their room as he burrows closer to Darren’s side and Darren thinks, _yeah, good thing for early sound checks._

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on justranda/nothinginfinite on livejournal.


End file.
